


Modeling: So Easy a Werewolf Can Do It

by dereksstilinski (greyslittlediaries)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, POV Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:32:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyslittlediaries/pseuds/dereksstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You – you what – model – was it – oh my god, if I open this box am I going to find pornstar!Derek?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modeling: So Easy a Werewolf Can Do It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bitchlips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchlips/gifts).



> I am not saying modeling is easy okay I promise you if you read the fic you’ll see that. I don’t want the title to throw you off! I watch America’s Next Top Model okay I know that shit’s serious as fuck.
> 
> NOW TO THE IMPORTANT PART!
> 
> Merry Christmas, Katy.  
> I know this is short, but I just wanted a really wanted a little fluffy monster to throw at you, so I hope you like it.  
> This fic is one hundred and ten percent written for you. I had been wanting to write this fic since the moment you tweeted “OMG someone write Stiles finding a box of photos from when Derek was in NYC modeling.” Then I thought, “That would be the perfect Christmas present for Katy” because you have always been behind my fic writing and just been so supportive of me and yeah.  
> You’re just really fucking great, Katy. You’re so funny and nice and fabulous and just – you make me smile. When someone makes me smile, I cling onto them and that is that. So, I am now a growth on that middle part of your back that you can’t reach.  
> What I’m saying is, you’re stuck with me and I hope you’re as happy about that as I am.

They’re sitting in the loft, the only light being the sun through the windows and the bright colored lights on the Christmas tree in the corner. Stiles had hassled Derek until he finally caved and went to the tree farm with him. Derek won’t admit that he looked forward to getting the tree all along and knew he would agree with Stiles the moment he suggested it. The pack had come over yesterday and they’d all decorated it together.

Now, they’re going through the boxes that Derek finally had shipped over from New York. With all of the supernatural shit that’s been going on, Derek hadn’t been exactly thinking about a possible flowerpot that he may have left sitting on an end table.

When Derek had went back to New York to put all of his stuff in boxes, he saw a wilting flower hanging over a pot and nearly turned around and walked out, but Stiles had laced his fingers in Derek’s and squeezed. Derek felt the gentle calmness envelope him, blanket his entire body, and caress each muscle. A calmness that only the hyperactive Stiles can bring him. A calmness that he is finally convinced he deserves.

Stiles had walked ahead and Derek followed, refused to let go of his hand. Stiles picked up the flowerpot and Derek croaked, voice dry from the emotion he was doing his best to keep down, _"Laura insisted on having flowers in the house. Said they balanced out the darkness of my miserable personality."_ Stiles had smirked, walked to the kitchen, and dropped the flower in the trash.

Derek could remember his breath catching, feel the phantom tear that had slowly dripped down his face. Stiles had stepped forward, grabbed both sides of Derek’s face and brought his lips to Derek’s cheek, kissed the tear away.

“Der?” Stiles’ voice tears him away from his thoughts. “You okay, dude? You’ve been staring at the same box for quite a while.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” And Derek’s heart clenches because it’s true. Truer than it’s been since the day his family was burned alive. Stiles must see the truth in Derek’s eyes because he smiles. A close-lipped, quietly happy smile and not for the first time Derek’s mind is jerked into shock at how this happened. How him and Stiles somehow worked love into the supernatural shitfest that has been their lives for the past two and a half years.

“Ooh! This box looks fun!” Derek jerks forward because he recognizes that box. He meant to put it in his bedroom closet before Stiles came over to help him go through the rest of the boxes.

“No!” Stiles’ eyes quickly meet Derek’s and he looks shocked, all sense of happiness replaced with confusion. Derek looks down at his hands, sees the claws, licks his teeth, and catches a fang. He slowly realizes that he’s wolfed out and thinks of Stiles’ hand intertwined with his, the feeling of his breath ghosting over Derek’s lips, exhales slowly, anchors himself.

“So, uh. Now that that’s over with, do you want to talk about whatever dirty secret is hidden in this box? Am I going to open it and find rotten limbs?”

“What? Stiles, no. It’s just – it’s nothing.”

“Dude. It’s clearly something. You just wolfed out over me even thinking about opening this box.”

Derek takes a deep breath. “I did some – I know I’m going to regret telling you this.”

Stiles raises an eyebrow at Derek, impatient and unimpressed with his stalling.

“I did some modeling back when Laura and me lived in New York.”

Stiles sputters. “You – you what – model – was it – oh my god, if I open this box am I going to find pornstar!Derek?”

“You will not find any dick pics in there, no.”

Stiles has the audacity to look put upon.

“You get to see it whenever you want, why would you want pictures of it?!”

Stiles shrugs, still looking way too disappointed than the situation calls for and fuck, Derek cannot look at that pout and do nothing about it, so he does what he knows he will eventually regret.

“You can open the box.”

Stiles jerks his head toward Derek. “I – what?”

“You can open the box. Do it before I change my mind.”

Stiles rips the box open and grabs the first shot he can get his hands on. From what Derek can see, it’s a shot from his motorcycle photoshoot. Definitely not the worst one Stiles could’ve pulled out of that box, so he’s lucky so far.

“Oh god. This box is going to bring me incredible masturbating material. I can feel it in my boner.”

Derek scoffs, tries to look away to hide the blush rising on his cheeks. He turns back when he hears Stiles’ breath hitch. Oh, no. No, no, no. Not that shot. Anything but that shot.

“Derek.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s ridiculous. They basically poured three gallons of oil all over me – including my face. Laugh now, because I’m –”

“Derek. This just might be the hottest fucking thing I have ever seen. In my entire life. Ever.”

Derek hears that Stiles isn’t lying but he’s still embarrassed, so he says, “Shut up.”

“Dude, I am not kidding. Can I actually take this one home? For, you know. Reasons.”

“No. The contents of that box is never leaving this loft.”

“Fine, then. I guess I’ll just have to jerk off in your bed.”

“Why would you jerk yourself off in my bed when you can have me jerk you off in my bed?”

“Because I know that you have a voyeurism kink.”

Derek walks over to Stiles and throws him over his shoulder. Stiles starts kicking wildly in protest, but Derek ignores him in favor of throwing him against the couch.

“Ah, I like where this is going.”

“This isn’t going anywhere. The only reason I didn’t throw you on the ground is because you bruise easily and the only marks that I want on you are marks that are from me.”

“Boo. How can you be so hot and so mean at the same time?”

“It’s a gift,” Derek deadpans.

Stiles smiles up at Derek. “ _You’re_ a gift.”

Derek slides in next to Stiles on the couch and pulls Stiles’ leg around him. He grabs Stiles’ cheek and moves in for a kiss. It’s sweet and it lingers. When they pull apart, Derek leaves his hand on Stiles’ cheek and Stiles is staring into him, not _at_ him, never _at_ him, always _into_ him, like he’s seeing all of the things that Derek does his best to hide.

Derek runs his thumb over Stiles’ cheekbone, his eyes are glistening in the colored lights from the tree above them. “So, what do you want for Christmas this year?”

Stiles’ face breaks into a grin and he belts at the top of his lungs, “Baby, all I want for Christmas is you!”

Derek pushes him off the couch, but they’re both laughing, and Derek feels his heart swelling inside of him, overcome with love.

He thinks that maybe his heart grew three sizes the day Stiles first kissed him. Thinks it grows more and more each time their lips brush together in a kiss or when one of them whispers “ _I love you"_ in the other’s ear. Thinks soon enough, his heart will burst out of his chest. Thinks that as long as Stiles is there to catch it and sew it back in, he doesn’t care.

**Author's Note:**

> The two photoshoots I referred to are actually [here](http://tylerhoechlin.org/gallery/thumbnails.php?album=102) and [here](http://tylerhoechlin.org/gallery/thumbnails.php?album=129).
> 
> This is [my tumblr](http://dereksstilinski.tumblr.com) and this is [my twitter](https://twitter.com/aryastilinski) and thank you so much for reading this fic. I hope you liked it!


End file.
